


Get Over

by lillyluna



Category: Sports RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: Coming Out, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gay Male Character, Hurt/Comfort, I came up with this while binge watching Greys Anatomy, Injury Recovery, M/M, New Relationship, medical student
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 06:37:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3640455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillyluna/pseuds/lillyluna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his injury, Ryan finds himself single in a new city without a lot of friends. Until he meets Andrew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Over

**Author's Note:**

> This is what Ryan/Austin was before Austin became the bad guy in Drop The World. I've always wanted to rewrite this and the drama around Michael Phelps combined with my recent marathon watching of all of Grey's Anatomy rekindled my need to write a Ryan only fic. I wrote this when I sat down to write the second chapter of Bad Choices. 
> 
> I've truthfully never really enjoyed writing Michael, his character doesn't come easy to me. So here's just Ryan. 
> 
> This is independent of any world I've already created.

**November 2013**

Ryan can’t swim. 

Ryan can’t swim and his knee hurts. 

Ryan can’t swim, his knee hurts and he has to hobble everywhere on crutches. 

Ryan can’t swim, his knee hurts, he has to hobble everywhere on crutches and at 29 years old his dad is mad at him. 

Ryan is bored and Devon isn’t even there to entertain him. 

Instead of going to morning practice (which he’d been doing everyday, kind of, most of the time) Ryan sleeps in, struggles to get in and out of the shower, gets dressed and leaves to go to knee rehab. 

He probably shouldn’t be driving either but he’s stubborn and not willing to give up that last bit of freedom. He’s not about to be injured, bored, in pain and trapped alone in his new condo. He thinks that could be dangerous. 

He doesn’t know where anything is in Charlotte. He never remembers if he has to turn left or right at the end of his street to not have to loop endlessly around until he can reach the highway. He can’t remember exactly where the hospital is. He refuses to use his GPS because it’s about time that he gets used to this. About time he starts to figure this new city shit out. 

His appointment is at nine and he gets stuck in morning traffic. The constant stop and go makes his knee ache. He can normally push pain out of his mind, he does it almost everyday but this injury is different. He has nothing else to think about. No goal to reach and no set to finish. It’s just him and traffic and his fucked up knee. 

He turns his music louder and drums his fingers harder against the steering wheel. He grinds his teeth and tries to re position himself to relieve some of the weight from his leg. 

Traffic gives out a few exits away from the hospital but Ryan’s knee doesn’t stop aching. By the time he’s at the hospital the pain is radiating down his leg and he’s dreading physio. 

He has a hard time getting out of his car and getting his crutches out of the backseat. He hops on one foot and almost looses his balance. 

Everything makes him angry. A woman holds the door open for him and he tries to hold it open on his own anyways. He hates looking weak. His phone rings in his pocket as he’s faced with a revolving door. 

He’s not allowed to bear weight on his leg but he can’t figure out how to go through the revolving door on crutches. He has to find the automatic door and use the handicap button to have it open for him. 

He’s furious and his phone won’t stop ringing. 

Ryan knows who’s calling him at 9 in the morning. He can close his eyes and see his father walking around his office at the Speed Club waiting for him to pick up. His dad had already called at 6, at 8 and while he was driving. His dad is furious at him, furious that he’d gotten drunkenly injured in the first place and generally disappointed in all the choices Ryan has made since London. 

Ryan doesn’t answer. He imagines that his voicemail is full of messages that get angrier as the day goes on. He hasn’t listened to any of them for a week now. He doesn’t want to hear about the choices he’s made. His knee is hurt and no amount of disappointed speeches will make it better. 

He’s not fast enough to catch the elevator and he has to wait. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and sees that his father has now started texting him. Ryan silently curses his sister and deletes the messages. 

By the time he’s on the right floor and making his way to the physiotherapy office, his shoulders and arms ache just as much as his knee. He wishes he’d stayed home in bed.

“Stop.” Someone yells at Ryan, “With the crutches stop.” 

Ryan hates that he’s been reduced to the guy hobbling on crutches but he stops anyways. He turns around and watches a doctor in a lab coat run towards him. 

“Thanks for stopping.” The doctor says out of breath a few feet away from him, “You can’t keep walking on those.” 

“I ain’t using a wheelchair.” Ryan bites because the thought of it makes him want to go back to the pool and drown. 

“No, just-” The doctor catches up to him. “Stop.”

“What?” Ryan shifts his weight to his good leg, “What d’you want me to do?” 

“Sit.” The doctor says, motioning to a chair in the hallway, “Hand them over.” 

Ryan moves himself two steps sideways and turns around. When he starts to sit down the doctor grabs his arm to help him. Ryan shrugs him off without thinking. 

“Sorry.” The doctor takes his hand away, “I’m Doctor Hale, I’m a surgical resident.” 

“Ryan.” Ryan rubs a hand just over his knee.

“Your crutches are wrong.” Doctor Hale answers, “Who adjusted these for you?” 

“We had ‘em in my garage.” Ryan answers, “In Gainesville, my brother used them last.” 

The doctor sits beside him on the plastic two-seat chair and props one of Ryan’s crutches across his lap. The charts he’d been carrying and his beeper are between the two of them. His scrubs are pale blue instead of dark blue and the stitching on his lab coat tells Ryan that the doctor’s first name is Andrew. 

Andrew’s hair is long, blonde and pulled up in a messy ponytail. His arms are built and sitting next to him makes Ryan’s day suck a little less. Andrew turns his head to talk to him and catches Ryan staring. He smiles. 

“Is he like three inches shorter than you?” Andrew un-twists the pin on one of the crutches.

“Who?” Ryan asks, totally lost because he’d been thinking of Andrew’s hands and not what they’d been doing. 

“Your brother.” Andrew fills in, “Who used these?” 

“Devon? Um yeah.” Ryan answers, “I don’t wanna use ‘em so-” 

“I don’t think that’s a choice.” Andrew breaks while adjusting the crutches. “Can’t bear weight on it for a few more weeks.” 

Ryan grimaces. The long-term prognosis for his knee is starting to bum him out. No weight bearing, no strength training, no kicks, no breaststroke, no starts, no straight turns, and no fins. The list of what he can’t do goes on forever. He imagines that when he is allowed back in a pool it might be with floaties around his arms. 

“Sorry.” Andrew apologies, “I’m not like on your case but I read your file…You don’t know that but- You’re not getting surgery right?”

“Can’t.” Ryan explains, “If I wanna keep swimming.” 

“Yeah.” Andrew agrees, “Tough recovery either way… I blew out my knee playing baseball in high school.” 

“It’s rough.” Ryan nods. 

“They got you talking to someone?” Andrew asks concerned, “Like to get through it?” 

“Yeah.” Ryan admits, the sessions with the Swim MAC approved psychologist not something he usually readily admits to. “Don’t really do nothing though.” 

“Give it time.” Andrew counsels, “You got a good team working for you, it’ll get better. Here.” 

Andrew hands the crutches back to Ryan and stands up first. He offers his hand to Ryan to help him get up and Ryan grabs onto him. 

“It should be easier to walk.” Andrew offers, “Try it out and see if I gotta change it again.” 

Ryan hobbles a few steps and the crutches are definitely easier to use. He’s not half bent over and his arms are in a more comfortable position. 

“Your shoulders are gonna take a beating from those, have physio work on them too.” Andrew says walking up to catch up to Ryan, “I’ll find your chart and put it in there.” 

“Thanks?” Ryan guesses, “I have to go or I’ll be-” 

“I’ll walk with you.” Andrew walks back to the chair to pick up his stuff before falling in step with Ryan. “No prob.” 

Ryan doesn’t have a lot of friends in Charlotte and this four-minute conversation is the most he’s talked to someone who he doesn’t swim with in the last few weeks. 

“Stand straight.” Andrew tells him, “Don’t lean that messes up the nerves in your arms… Move your hurt leg forward and when you go straight press the top of the crutches into your ribs tight so they don’t move.” 

“Yo what?” Ryan stops moving and tries to take in all the information, “What?” 

“Did no one teach you to walk with crutches?” Andrew asks, “When they told you you couldn’t put weight on your leg they didn’t-” 

“I’ve been on crutches before.” Ryan defends his technique, “I know-” 

“Okay so you do.” Andrew goes along with it, “How ‘bout a refresher?”

Andrew is smiling and eager and Ryan is still in a bad mood. Andrew’s attractive and Ryan is in sweatpants he isn’t sure are totally clean and hasn’t shaven in two weeks. 

“I just slump.” Ryan explains. 

Ryan runs a hand through his hair and scratches his beard. He hopes he doesn’t look half as haggard as he feels. He smiles hoping to look a little more like his usual self. If he’s going to be single in a new city he realizes he needs to make more of an effort. Needs to- 

“You can’t lean.” Andrew repeats, “Because it puts pressure on the wrong place and you’re going to hurt your back. Stand up straight and press the crutches into your ribs to steady them.” 

Ryan follows Andrew’s instruction like he’s learning a new swim stroke. He takes a few steps and looks back at him expectantly. 

“Good.” Andrew praises, “Make sure you keep your bad leg off the ground, no weight on it.”

Andrew walks forward to join him again and walks the rest of the way with him to physio. 

“I have to get to the ER.” Andrew says looking at his watch, “I’ll see you around I’m here everyday. You can ask for me if you-” 

“Yeah thanks.” Ryan suddenly doesn’t want his new acquaintance to go, “I’ll-” 

Ryan doesn’t get to finish his sentence. Andrew’s pager goes off and he leaves without saying goodbye. Ryan is left alone at physiotherapy wondering when he’d lost his ability to flirt. He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirrored wall at the back of the room and makes an immediate decision to shave when he gets home. He makes another decision to stop wearing sweatpants. 

*

Ryan has a grindr profile because of Devon. 

After he’d moved to Charlotte injured, alone and single Devon had come up for a weekend and taken it upon himself to help Ryan out.

“Because this is sad Ry.” He’d explained, “You can’t stay here and talk to Carter forever. He can’t hold an Xbox controller.” 

Devon had made the profile by himself while Ryan slept off his painkillers and presented the result to Ryan when he’d woken up.   
Ryan had immediately regretted ever giving his brother the password to his phone. 

“Dude don’t delete it.” Devon had pleaded, “I worked hard read the profile. If it blows up you can tell people someone stole your pic. Try it out. Kristin thinks-”

Ryan hadn’t wanted to hear his older sister’s opinion on his sex life so he’d cut Devon off, closed the app and not opened it back up since. 

Alone at home, with Carter beside him, ice on his knee and waiting for Devon or Kyle to get on Xbox live. Ryan thinks that maybe it’s time to get back out there because being celibate for more than a year is sad enough. 

He has no idea how to use the app. He browses profiles and ignores chat boxes. He favorites profiles by accidents and is ready to delete the whole thing when a familiar face smiles out at him from the bottom right corner of his screen. 

Andrew.


End file.
